Keeper
by sam carter 1013
Summary: Peter as Olivia's keeper. Chapter 4 up.
1. Keeper

Spoilers: Night of desirable objects

Disclaimer: I do not own fringe, at least not in this reality.

Author's note: Last week I read "Insomnia" by Xeen Cyr, the scene protrayed was so sweet!, and it inspired this one. Also, my first language it's not English, so sorry about the grammar problems, any comment would be appreciated

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Keeper

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He was getting better at picking her lock, something that wasn't precisely good, if he could pick the lock without waking her up someone else could too.

Not a nice thought, Peter reflexed, not at this precise moment. The young Bishop entered the small apartment, it was dark like every night he had come, so he had to be very careful to not knock anything in his way to her bedroom.

He went slowly, the hard wood floor cracking under his weight.

She was there, sleeping on top of the covers, her cane next to her bed, the bathroom door open, as he has suggested, in case she needed anything.

Today was a full moon, the light of it filtering through the small crack in her bedroom courtains, she was on her side so he could see the bruises clearly. He flinched. They looked too big and too purple, but she had said she was fine and never complain.

He had to remember not to touch her in the shoulder.

Olivia was restless again, moving too much on the bed, the lines on her forehead more evident than ever, and a sligt layer of sweat glistenig against the light.

Peter walked towards her, she moved again, he held his breath, how was he going to explain him being here, watching her sleep like an stalker, he would have to tell her the truth, that he was worried and that watching her apartment from across the street wasn't enough anymore.

And then she would shoot him with the gun under her pillow.

She turned again, mumbling something unintelligible.

She wasn't going to sleep well unless he did something.

So far it had worked.

Peter got closer and put his hand on her forehead, she calmed almost instantly. He would have to leave eventually, he really didn't wat to explain this to her, he had enough with hiding the dark circles under his eyes.

He withdrew his hand, she seemed relaxed now, the line in her forehad gone, he smiled to himself and left the aparment silently.

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	2. Keeping her safe

Spoilers: Everything, mostly Bad dreams, And old day in the old town and Night of desirable objects.

Disclaimer: I don't even own the laptop in which I'm writing this fic.

Author's note: I'm thinking of changing the title of this to "The stalker series" . One of you asked for more, so here it is. Honestly, I don't know how many parts this may have or when I will update, it will completely depend on the show and the moments I can fit in the format I have, and I'll be jumping between the episodes, meaning that this series won't be in the order of the episodes, due mostly that I want to write some parts before others. I would place this after the beginning of Night of desirable objects and before Olivia and Walter's talk at the lab. Enjoy!

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Keeping her safe

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"Olivia!"

It had all started like that, with a dream. A simple nonsensical dream. Innocent really. That's what he got for stopping his conditioning.

He was still sweating and panting, his heartbeat was through the roof and he wasn't sure if those were tears or sweat.

It had been a bad idea to place the bed in front of the mirror; his panic face scared even him.

He threw the covers and put both feet on the floor, it was cold, he tried to erase the sleep from his eyes, head on his hands, he just couldn't erase the image from his mind.

Olivia, the old Olivia, with her long blond hair cascading down her shoulders, with her pristine white shirt and her black suit, peaceful expression, no scratches in her face.

In a coffin.

Brown, glossy brown, white on the inside.

Her body was inside, unmoving, quite... so dead. Stupid really, you are dead or not dead, not so or much dead.

He would give everything to erase that image from his mind.

Peter knew she was not dead, she was simply not there anymore, on her trip to the other side she had lost something, sometimes he wondered if this really was their Olivia, if somebody hadn't changed her on the return trip, then she saw those small moments, those tiny expressions of pain where he knew it was his Olivia.

It was her, but it wasn't.

But she wasn't dead, and that's what is important, _Remember that Peter._

She wasn't dead, she wasn't dead, she wasn't...

"Peter, son, are you all right?" Walter was at the door of his bedroom, a banana in hand. "I heard you screaming."

"I'm fine Walter, go back to bed." He said without moving. He heard Walter's wool socks against the carpet, he must going back to bed, but then he saw them in front of him.

"Don't worry son, she is going to be fine." He looked up immediately; his father gave him this look he only got when he was really sane.

"I know Walter, I know."

"Why don't you call her?"

Peter looked at his watch 3:00 in the morning, he didn't want to wake her up, she needed to rest, besides he had seen her that morning when he picked her up from the hospital and Rachel and Ella were with her, he would wake them up too.

"I might wake her up; I don't think it's a good idea."

"Oh, you are right, son." And just like that Walter left him alone.

He lied down again trying to sleep, but the image was fresh in his mind and half and hour later he was still unable to sleep. He got up and got dress, he was tired, but sleep will not come again. He went downstairs and found Walter asleep and snoring in his makeshift bed, half of the banana still on his hand.

Smiling he took the banana from his hand and covered him with the blankets.

Peter got out of the house, walking didn't seem like the sanest idea at this hour but they didn't have anything at the house that would help him unwind and he was going to be tired enough in the morning to add a hangover if he drank, so walking would have to do the trick; just two blocks from their house the thought really came to mind, he stopped a cab on the nearest avenue.

He had done this before, only once, watching her, keeping her safe, watching her apartment from across the street, but he never ventured inside her apartment.

If he saw the lights on he would leave, if the lights were out, well...

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It was five by the time he got back home, incredibly sleepy and tired, Walter was still in bed, Olivia would call up soon and they had to be at the lab early so he decided to make coffee instead of going back to sleep.

He had been lucky, there had been no sign of Rachel or Ella and the light had been off; picking the lock had been easy, he tried really hard not to go into the house but he had to see her, make sure she was okay, that she was breathing, alive... she was fine, his only concern was now the slight tossing, turning and mumbling, he had reached out unconsciously to touch her in a very logical gesture to calm her, it worked, like that night at the lab, his touch had calmed her, it was creepy to say the least but very handy. He stayed for over an hour, sitting on the floor by her bed, he really hoped this won't become a habit but he really doubted.

Coffee was ready, Peter took a cup to the living room and turned on the TV, he killed the sound to not wake up Walter.

He knew he would go back to her house the following night, that thought alone managed to lull him to sleep until she called.

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	3. What is keeping you?

Spoilers: In Fracture.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's note:

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What is keeping you?

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Peter could hear her footsteps on the airplane carpet; right foot, cane, limp, right foot, cane, limp.

He was pretending to be sleep.

Peter was worried. She had not been comfortable to be sent with him to Baghdad, it was not because she wasn't ready, she just didn't want to be with him alone, afraid he would notice that she wasn't sleeping, that she was hiding something; the headache had probed that much.

Why can't she talk to him? Why was she hiding? He wanted so badly to be there for her, but she wouldn't let him in, he was only left with watching her sleep, and suddenly it wasn't enough anymore; this, whatever this was, was evolving very fast for him, protectiveness is something he didn't feel often, and yet, he felt compelled to protect her, and she kept running away. Farther, and farther until one day he wouldn't be able to catch up with her.

_How can I make you see I'm here?_

He heard Olivia sit down, papers being moved. He kept pretending to be asleep.

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They landed in Baghdad on the late afternoon. Olivia had changed clothes according to the local customs.

As they descended the airplane Peter turned to offer her his hand to go down the plane when he noticed Olivia's scarf was slipping down, exposing a few strands of blond hair.

"Hey, your scarf is falling down."

Peter instinctly reached out to adjust it; Olivia looked at him defensively, his touch strange to her even though he had touched her at the hospital just three weeks ago. He tucked the hair under the scarf looking Olivia in the eye, she suddenly looked shy.

"Thanks."

He placed his tingly hands on his sides

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The flight back home was another story, he drifted on and off sleep, struggling to be awake, Walter had kept him awake the last couple of days and he was beyond tired, he was exhausted and couldn't help to fall asleep.

It was a long flight so at some point he woke up, still strapped to his seat, the lights were off and Olivia had finally and blissfully fallen asleep. She was leaning on her seat, she hadn't changed out of her clothes so the scarf covering her hair was slipping again.

Despite being asleep she didn't seem to be resting. The line in the middle of her forehead was still there and she was practically grabbing the arm rests.

It was becoming a guilty pleasure to watch her sleep, he had just done it twice but it always brought him some kind of peace to see her in her bed sleeping. At least this time he didn't have to pick her lock, she was going to notice eventually, he was hoping for a no there, but Peter just couldn't stop it, not now, he was too far gone.

He had risked a lot, offering to help, she could easily have found out things he preferred to keep hidden from her. Peter was so determined that she still see him as a good person.

He unbuckled from his seat and went to sit next to her. Gently, he took the corner of the scarf and pulled it down from her hair trying not to wake her up, he didn't now how but he never woke her and his touch seemed to calm her. Peter smoothed her hair a little and then place both hands on top of hers, she relaxed her grip on the arm rests and turned her face to him. She looked like an angel.

She looked like an angel? Nice Bishop, really nice.

He leaned a little to whisper in her ear. "How can I make you see I'm here?"

He relaxed on his seat without letting go of her hand and went back to sleep.

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	4. Keeping his promises

Spoilers: Momentum deferred.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's notes:

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Keeping his promises

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He promised himself he would stop doing this, spying on her, it was bad enough he had broken into her house a couple of times, but this was just creepy. He almost felt like a stalker, but he had to come today.

_Protectiveness__, Peter._

They had known the identity of the shapeshifter at the same time as Olivia, Peter spent a good half and hour practically praying nothing had happened to her because she wasn't answering her phone, he could breath out when she returned to the lab a couple of hours later walking funny and with forming bruises around her neck, but she didn't say a word, Peter had wanted so badly to run to her, her eyes had been so empty, and she looked so broken, and then she left to talk to Broyles. He didn't even have time time so say I'm sorry.

_How can I make you see I'm here?_

Peter managed to blend in with the rest of the agents in his gray suit, moving around until he found his spot next to a tree. He saw Olivia arrive, moving among the crowd just like he had done, trying to hide how guilty she felt.

Peter knew this hadn't been his fault, but in a way he felt like he hadn't done the proper deicisions at the time; letting her go to New York, alone, after that lapse or whatever that had been, still heavily drugged and dizzy... it was plain luck that she got out alive, but not unscratched.

Official word was that Charlie was killed in the line of duty.

His hiding place gave him a wide view of everybody at the funeral. Charlie's wife was sobbing on a handkerchief, his coworkers stood to attention while _Saving grace_ was playing on the background. Olivia had not moved during the whole funeral; she suddenly jumped at the sound of the rifles shotting.

A soldier placed the American flag in Charlie's wife's hands, she looked up like saying _This is not going to bring my husband back._

After some final words from the priest people started to walk away towards their cars, most of the agents in groups. Olivia stod there a while longer, staring at Charlie's coffin, alone, her head down, shoulders almost on the ground, but not tears. She would not allow that kind of relief to herself.

Olivia was almost at her car when Charlie's wife approached her, they talked for a while, at some point Olivia's expression went from grief to happiness to regret in one second, then she hugged the red-head woman and got in to her car.

She didn't come into the lab that day, which made his will tremble, moreso when she didn't pick up her phone.

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The lights were on today, he waited a long time before realizing that she might have fallen asleep with the lights on. It was a lot trickier to pick her lock but he finally got in.

The picture was just plain sad.

Olivia lying on her bed, still on the funeral's clothes, an empy whisky bottle on her beside table.

"Oh, Olivia."

He got closer to her bed, she was on he left side, he crouched down to look at her; there were dried tear lines on her face.

She suddenly moved, rolling onto her other side, he stood up abruptly brushing the empty bottle with his right hand almost sending it to the floor; the small sound startled Olivia who started to mumble in her sleep. The words were almost a whisper.

"Charlie, Charlie, no, Charlie, where are you, I didn't ..."

She was agitated and turned again, the tears rolling down her porcelain face.

"Charlie..."

He could feel the lines on his forehead coming, What have they done to her? She was broken; there was no way he could possibly fix her right now. She didn't deserve this, losing everybody, it has been barely a year since John's death and now Charlie. How much could she stand? How many more punches would life will throw at her, how many times will she be able to stand up again?

"Charlie..."

She raised her hands in the air like trying to reach for something, someone, her eyes opened but not focused, Peter knew she was too far gone, too drunk, to tired to recognize him so he risked it and grab both her hands in his.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

The tears kept coming but her pleas where losing strength, Olivia gripped his hands and slowly loose her grip and closed her eyes again. She stopped moving.

Slowly, and making some impressing manouvers, Peter took off her shoes and put her under the covers. She seemed more relaxed and possibly be able to sleep for a couple of hours.

He observed her again, hands in his jacket trying not to touch her, loosing that battle he placed a kiss on he forehead. "I'm here Olivia."

He turned off the lights as he went around the house, before leaving he watched her some more from the threshold of her bedroom and suddenly realized he had broken his promise and swore to keep the other one.

He gave a glance at the now still form on the bed, the tear lines still visible, and left the apartment.

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End file.
